


This hope that you and I will bloom

by elanorelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elanorelle/pseuds/elanorelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because while this is all extremely historic and significant, Blaine finds the first thing that comes into his mind is simply: Kurt and I can get married, now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This hope that you and I will bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Post-NY Marriage Equality Bill fic. Title taken from "I Do" by Placebo.

It's one more thing to add to the list.

One more reason why moving to New York is going to be the best thing either one of them has done in their (admittedly short) lives so far.

They call each other as soon as it happens, of course: cheer and laugh and cry a little bit (or rather Blaine cries, and Kurt doesn't tease him for it), before they both wind up telling their respective parents, though in Blaine's case it's mostly because his mother comes into the room to ask what all the commotion is about. And maybe the smile and accompanying: "That's wonderful, darling," he receives don't quite match up to the enthusiastic celebration he can hear at Kurt's end of the line, but Blaine still appreciates the sentiment.

While they're still on the phone, Blaine finds great pleasure in taking his multicoloured pens to the map of America he's had on his wall since he was six and drawing a rainbow over New York State, to match the five others he's already got there (Iowa still gives him pause whenever he catches sight of it). Later, while Blaine is lying in his bed and failing to fall asleep, he looks at the map and has to call Kurt again, and they talk until the sky is starting to lighten outside.

This is an historic moment, after all: it's important they treat it like one.

A few days later, when the initial excitement has worn off, Blaine wants to talk about it again, but this time he's not entirely sure how.

Because while this is all extremely historic and significant, life-changing for so many people, Blaine finds that when he thinks about what has just happened, what's _going_ to start happening by the time another month's gone by, the first thing that comes into his mind is simply: _Kurt and I can get married, now_.

He doesn't mean it in an abstract sense, either, that some day he and Kurt will be able, separately, to marry a partner of their choosing and have it recognised by the State of New York.

No, he means – quite literally and specifically – that one day, if they like, _he_ and _Kurt_ can get married. To _each other_. Because Blaine, at seventeen, is apparently already thinking in forevers.

He knows it's ridiculously premature: they're only a month out from saying "I love you" and he's so very aware that they're each other's first … everything, that this is so _new_ and that neither one of them has any clue about what they're doing. In many ways, he's not even ready to be thinking like this, at all, because he loves Kurt without question but he's not sure how _committed_ he feels to him, just yet, and who's to say they'll even make it past high school, let alone through college and out the other side.

But still, when he sees Kurt, now, he can't help it: all he can think is that here's this boy, this beautiful, tangible, impossible boy, who loves Blaine, who wants Blaine to come with him to New York, which is a city now so full of opportunity for them both that it seems almost unreal, a city where Kurt could propose to Blaine, if he liked, and Blaine could say yes, and it wouldn't be something they had to carve out for themselves, it would just _be_.

It's too soon – much too soon – for Blaine to be able to say if that's actually what he wants, but the overwhelming _potential_ of it is something he feels he has to to talk to Kurt about, because whatever future they might have ahead of them, this has opened it right up, made it bigger and brighter than ever before.

It's hard to know how to express all of that without freaking Kurt out, though (without freaking _himself_ out, come to that), and he spends days trying to work up the courage to bring the subject up again. In the end, he doesn't have to: Kurt does it for him.

They're in Kurt's room, on his bed, watching _something_ on the computer that Blaine isn't even really paying attention to because Kurt's body is close and that's always really distracting.

Kurt sighs and Blaine thinks maybe they'll kiss, now, except Kurt just lays his head on Blaine's shoulder and says: "I can't stop thinking about it."

"What?" Blaine asks, though he's sure he already knows.

"Can you imagine it?" Kurt says, not bothering to answer Blaine's own question, breathless with the force of his optimism. "Maybe there's a guy, in Central Park, proposing to his boyfriend after years of not doing it because _now_ it won't be: 'will you join your assets with mine and live with me as if we're married,' it'll just be 'will you marry me,' and that'll be it, that'll mean they can have everything."

"Yeah," Blaine says, softly, gripping a little tighter where his and Kurt's joined hands are resting on the bed between them.

"Or there's a woman: she and her girlfriend have matching rings and maybe they even had a wedding, years ago, but now she's looking for a dress again because _now_ they're going to go to City Hall and make it official, _finally_." Kurt pauses for a second, then adds: "It'll be grey silk, maybe. Off the shoulder, just a little bit of lace. I bet she'll look beautiful."

Blaine takes a moment to wonder over Kurt's commitment to fashion, even at a moment like this, and then decides to take the opportunity while he has it. He clears his throat and says: "Have you ever thought about that?"

There's a long, pointed pause before Kurt replies. "Have I thought about looking for a wedding dress?" he says, voice airy and light and totally unconvincing. "I know I'm not exactly butch, Blaine, but cross-dressing wasn't something I imagined for my wedding day."

"You know what I mean," Blaine says.

"Do I?"

Blaine shifts, uncomfortable, and figures he might as well go for broke. " _We_ could get married," he says. "In New York. Not soon," he hastens to add, "but someday."

Another pause, this one even longer, and Blaine wonders if Kurt will even say anything or if Blaine will have to try and backtrack so this doesn't get awkward. Then: "Yes. We could."

"Have you thought about that?" Blaine asks again, not sure how far he can push this, but wanting to try, anyway.

Kurt sits up, putting a little distance between them so he can look Blaine in the eye, though he doesn't manage it for long before he's looking down at the bedclothes again. "I've been planning my wedding since I was five, Blaine," he says. "Does that answer your question?"

"No," Blaine says. "I asked if you thought about you and I getting married. That's not the same as planning a hypothetical wedding."

"I know what colour your tie is going to be, if that makes things any clearer." Kurt looks up at him again, and his eyes are wide.

"Not really," Blaine says, even though it does, a little, but he wants to hear Kurt explain it himself.

"Every wedding needs a groom," Kurt says, and then shrugs. "Or another groom, I guess, in my case. You've been filling the role for a while now."

Blaine finds that both adorable and thrilling in ways he's not sure he wants to contemplate just yet, but it's still not the answer he's looking for. "That's not—" he starts, before Kurt interrupts him.

"If what you're asking is whether or not I see us getting married someday, then … I honestly don't know, Blaine. I mean, planning my imagined future wedding is one thing, but it seems too soon to be thinking about _that_."

Blaine nods his agreement fervently. "It is too soon," he says. "I'm not— that's not what I mean, either. I'm not asking you to tell me about what wedding you think we'll have, or even if we'll _have_ a wedding, that's not it at all."

"Then what?" Kurt sounds nervous, a little, but mostly just curious, and this, this is the tricky part: Blaine takes a deep breath and tries to make himself comprehensible.

"It's like— just the _possibility_ of it, I guess? It's not like I'm suddenly thinking we _will_ get married, or that we _should_ , it's just … we could. When we're in New York, we could, one day, if we're still together and that's what we both want."

"And that wasn't true a week ago," Kurt points out, and yes, that's it, exactly.

"No," Blaine says. "It wasn't. But now it is, and it will be, and … it's like, sometimes when I look at you, now, it's all I can see."

Kurt nods like he gets it, and when he says: "Like the future just opened up for us," Blaine knows that he does.

"Exactly," Blaine says.

"You could marry me, someday, if you wanted to," Kurt adds, as if for clarification, and Blaine nods again, saying: "Someday. If _we_ wanted to," because it seems important to be clear on that.

Kurt smiles, just a little. "If we wanted to," he repeats, and then again: "If we wanted to, we could."

"Yes. We could," Blaine says, and leans in to rest their foreheads together. He closes his eyes, listens to Kurt breathing next to him and for a second he feels a tug in his gut and a sudden sense of wondering whether he's closer to _wanting_ than he realised.

But it's still too big, too soon, too much, and he squashes down the thought and tries to bring them back round to the hypothetical by asking: "It's gonna be blue, right?"

Kurt pulls back and looks at him quizzically. "What is?"

"My tie," Blaine says. "For the wedding. I'm really hoping it's blue."

Now Kurt's looking at him like he's certifiable. "Please," he says. "It's going to be pink."

Blaine screws his nose up. "Pink?"

"Mmhm, to match the tablecloths."

"I can't believe you're colour-coordinating me into the decor of our imaginary wedding. What am I, a prop?" Blaine says, laughing.

"Well, you're certainly not going to be part of any wedding of mine if you're _not_ colour-coordinated," Kurt says primly, and Blaine honestly can't tell if he's teasing or not. He decides he doesn't mind much, either way.

"I'll try and remember that," he says, as earnestly as he can manage.

"You'd better," Kurt says, and this time there's a lilt to his voice that tells Blaine maybe he's teasing a little after all.

Blaine thinks maybe this moment has passed, now, that the evening can carry on as before: they can finish the movie (whatever it is, seriously, Blaine has no idea), and make out until dinner, and then afterwards as well, provided they don't get roped into some kind of family activity, which is always a strong possibility. Blaine doesn't mind that, though, he thinks Kurt's family is pretty awesome.

Before Blaine can ask Kurt if he cares enough about whatever they're watching to object if Blaine kisses him till they're both stupid with it, Kurt cries: "Wait, we should add this to the list," and reaches for the drawer in his nightstand, bringing out a leather-bound journal Blaine hasn't seen before.

"What's this?" Blaine asks, curious. When Kurt opens it, the first page features a picture Blaine knows well because it's currently the wallpaper on his phone: Kurt and Rachel during the trip to Nationals, standing in front of a billboard for _Wicked_ , both with enormous grins on their faces and between them, Kurt holding up his phone so that his own wallpaper – a picture of Blaine – can be seen. Kurt had sent it at the time with a message that just said _Soon!_ with a dozen or so kisses after, and Blaine had looked at that and known, with certainty, that it was going to happen, just like they'd planned. That they'd make it happen.

Kurt's journal seems testament to the fact that he believes it too, and on the page directly after the picture there is a list, written out in neat bullet points and headed "Reasons to Move to New York," in Kurt's loopy script.

"You made an _actual_ list," Blaine points out, perhaps unnecessarily, but he's just surprised, is all.

"Of course," Kurt says, a little hesitantly. "We said we would, didn't we?"

"Well, yeah," Blaine says. "But I just made one in my head, I didn't write it down."

Kurt shrugs, a jerky little movement that gives away how nervous he is right now, how worried he is that Blaine is going to find him silly or ridiculous or _too much_ , which is ludicrous because Blaine never thinks Kurt is any of those things, or if he does it only makes him love Kurt more. "It seemed neater this way," Kurt says. "So we won't forget. I know it's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Blaine says, moving closer on the bed so that he can put his arm around Kurt's waist and rest his head on Kurt's shoulder. "I love that you wrote a list. I love _you_."

A second's pause, and Blaine can feel Kurt relax into his embrace before he says: "I love you, too." It's the surest Blaine's ever heard him sound about it, like he's finally rid himself of the notion that Blaine is going to take those words and use them against him, somehow, and Blaine thinks maybe this is Kurt Hummel letting him in just a little bit more.

He props his chin up on Kurt's shoulder so he can see, and he asks: "So, what else do we have on the list so far?"

And Kurt shows him, shows him all the ways in which New York is going to change their lives forever; this latest perhaps the one that can change them the most.

Someday, if they want it to. Blaine can hardly wait.


End file.
